Remarkable
by prycel
Summary: A series of unrelated stories that will be mostly AU Olicity. Chapter 1: Resolution- Oliver meets Felicity at a cupcake bakery. Rated T just to be safe. Enjoy!


**Hello! I hope you enjoy the story below. I came up with the idea randomly, but I thought it was cute. So the song the story is named after, Resolution, is by Matt Corby. You can listen to it on my tumblr: theemerald-archer. Also, I'm afraid I didn't write the wedding speech that Lena gives. Some of it is from One Tree Hill and some of it I found online from Ryan Hupfer. The link to her wedding dress and her ring can be found on my tumblr as well. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

**xx Lindsey**

Felicity Smoak meets Oliver Queen on a Friday morning. She is wearing skinny jeans, ballet flats, a yellow v-neck shirt and a pink and white-stripped apron on when he first saw her. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a curly ponytail and her eyes were bright, little make-up outlining her eyes. She grins from ear to ear when their eyes met and he approached the cash register, unable to hold back his own responding smile.

"Good morning! Welcome to Lena Bakery," she greets instantly. He was in a small shop, one that he had past every day on his way to work. The walls were a soft yellow and there were numerous different types of cupcakes, all in pastel colors, and other various baked goods. "How may I help you today?"

"Hello," he greets back. "This is my first time here, so what do you recommend?"

Her blue eyes are entrancing and when she hands him a menu, he notices her soft purple nail polish. He admires her small, slender fingers as she points out various things.

"Well, I know it's only 10 am, but it's never too early for a cupcake, right?" she says with a smile. "My personal favorites are the Lemon Sunrise and the Maple Bacon cupcakes. The lemon has our delicious lemon vanilla cake with white chocolate lemon icing. The maple bacon, and yes, I know it sounds weird, is mind blowing," she says, making a little explosion motion with her hands. "It has a cake made with real Canadian maple syrup, the good stuff, and bacon frosting with a maple syrup drizzle. It's kind of like a breakfast cupcake. Since it's so close to Christmas, we have a special peppermint cupcake right now that is also really good. It has a peppermint flavored cake with vanilla cream cheese frosting. We have a Carmel Macchiato cupcake that features an espresso cake with Carmel icing. Or, if you're in a mint mood, we have a limited edition Thin Mint cupcake. The thin mint sits at the bottom, under our famous chocolate cake and green mint frosting." she stops abruptly, realizing she's been talking the whole time. A flush fills her cheeks that make Oliver grin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk so much."

"No, it's fine! What one sounds good to you, Dig?" Oliver asks, turning to his bodyguard who is practically drooling behind him. Diggle clears his throat before answering.

"Um, you lost me at Maple Bacon," he says with a guilty smile. Felicity laughs lightly.

"We'll take one of each," Oliver announces. "And one Strawberry Surprise, because Thea, my sister, specifically requested it."

"Your sister has good taste. She also must come here often, because that one isn't even on the menu. It's only for our frequent customers," Felicity says as she starts pulling cupcakes out of the display case.

"How long have you worked here, Ms-"

"Felicity, just Felicity," she says, putting the cupcakes into a to-go container for them. "And I opened this little bakery about 5 years ago.

As she closes the container, he notices a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist. It's a date and he is immediately curious what it means. But that would be rude to ask. He certainly wouldn't like anyone asking about his tattoos.

"Alright, I can check you out. I mean, not check you out, like, yea but you can pay down here," she says quickly, her cheeks flushing again. Oliver tries to keep the smile off his face, but he can't. She points awkwardly to the cash register and they walk down.

"Okay, so that will be 16.50," She says, setting the bag filled with cupcakes on the counter. Oliver pulls a bill out of his wallet and hands it to her as Diggle takes the bag.

"Keep the change," he says with a smile, turning to walk away. He's almost to the door when he hears her behind him.

"Um, sir?" she says. He turns, coming face to face with her. "Mr. Queen?"

"Oliver," he answers. "Call me Oliver."

"Okay, Oliver, I think you gave me a 50 by accident," she says, holding the bill out to him. He just winks at her before walking out.

She watched him leave with a smile on her face. She had recognized him immediately, probably, as did every one else in the store. She knows the story from the news, but for now, she doesn't think about it. She just thinks about his smile and his mesmerizing eyes, a thought that leaves a blush across her face.

The second time Oliver saw Felicity, she was wearing a grey v-neck t-shirt with a yellow cardigan over the top, skinny jeans, and the same flats as before. Dig had picked up cupcakes here for them multiple times since the holidays, but Oliver hadn't seen Felicity since, nor could he stop thinking about her. When he met people, there were three typical reactions. Either they gawked at him like an animal in a zoo, asked him a million questions that he was not comfortable answering, or immediately tried to "get in bed" with him, literally and figuratively. Women batted their eyelashes in a way that he was supposed to find attractive, but instead left him wondering if they had an eyelash stuck in their eye. And men would try to talk business immediately, about investing and paychecks. But Felicity had treated him just like any other person, like he wasn't Starling Cities Prodigal Son. He and Diggle sit in a corner, papers spread out in front of them and he's finishing his second cup of coffee when he finally spots her. It's exactly 8:00 when she descends the stairs across the room, her hair pulled back into the same curly ponytail. She grips a coffee mug in her hand that, when he squints, kind of looks like a blue telephone box from London. She walks towards a girl who is currently leering at him and greets her. The girl turns to her and acknowledges her presence. She must mention him, however, because Felicity's eyes turn towards his. He anticipates the movement and focuses back on the paper in front of him before she catches him staring. Fifteen minutes later, Oliver sits back into the booth with a groan.

"Dig, I don't understand it," Oliver says. "How did they go from this number to that?"

"Oliver, do I look like an accountant?"  
Oliver stares at his companion seriously for a moment before sighing.

"How am I supposed to run a multimillion dollar company if I can't even understand basic accounting?" Oliver says.

"Multibillion," Felicity says from next to him, coffee in hand. Both men look up at her in alarm. "Queen Consolidated is a multibillion dollar company. And," she says, leaning over to them and looking at the balance sheet in front of them. "They had to deduct the FIFA taxes here, and then added the owner's equity here," she says, pointing to the sheet. Both men look at the paper, where her yellow painted nails are pointing, and then back up at her. She shrugs.

"Accounting was always easy to me."

"I could hug you right now," Dig says. "Can you explain the rest to us?"  
Oliver kicks him under the table, cheeks slightly flushed.

"Sorry, I'm sure you have something else you need to get to," he says, turning his attention away from a wincing Diggle.  
"Actually, I just came to give you a refill," she says, pouring coffee into their mugs. "But if you give me a half hour, I'd be happy to help you out."  
"Actually, Mr. Queen, you have that meeting at QC at 9," Dig says. Oliver looks at him and resists the urge to kick him again. "We actually have to get going."

"Oh well," Felicity says with a small smile. "Have a good meeting!"

She turns to walk away but Oliver is up and out of the booth, fast-walking to catch up with her. She turns at his approaching footsteps.

"Are you free this afternoon? Around 6?" he asks. She nods.

"Sure, I'll stop by the office."  
He gives her his office number and, with a parting smile, follows Dig out of the bakery.

It's exactly six o'clock when Felicity walks up onto the executive floor. She walks into the secretary's office, whose desk looks long abandoned, and spies Oliver through the see-through walls. He and his driver have abandoned their suit jackets and ties, sleeves rolled up to their elbows, chatting by his desk. As she walks forwards, she spies Chinese cartons on a table by the window. She knocks on the glass and both men look at her with smiles.

"Hey," she says softly, stepping inside the impressive office.

"Hello," he says, watching her gaze around the room. "We're glad you could make it."

Next to him, Dig nods.

"Could we trade your accounting expertise for Chinese food?" Dig asks. She grins at him and nods.

"I brought reinforcements," she says, holding up a box of cupcakes. She turns her gaze back to Oliver, and when their eyes meet, neither can squash the feelings that rise inside them.

It's nine o'clock when they walk to her house. Diggle left, taking the car with him, about an hour ago. Oliver's bike sits in the employee parking lot, but he refused to let her walk home by herself.

He walks with his hands in his pocket, listening to her talk about the bakery. When the conversations subside and she reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, he notices the tattoo again.

"I'm sorry if this is overstepping, but what does your tattoo mean?" he asks. She pauses and he immediately regrets asking her. But then she smiles softly at him and holds her wrist up for him to get a better look. 3.14.1994

"It's the day my parents died," she says. "They were driving home from a work dinner when they were hit by a drunk driver."

He doesn't know what to say. After years of having people apologize for his father's death, he should know what to say. But nothing comes to mind except for the traditional "I'm sorry." So instead, he reaches out and grabs her hand, entertaining his fingers through hers, and smiles sadly at her.

"Tell me about them," he says. She smiles gratefully at him before opening her mouth.

The third time he sees her, it's at a wedding. Well, not just any wedding. Tommy finally worked up the nerve to ask Laurel to marry him, and, according to Tommy, had said, "Hell yes," in response. It had been quite a surprise coming back from the island and finding his best friend and ex-girlfriend in love, but after a while, he couldn't be happier for them. After all, they had been dating for 5 years. The wedding was a large affair. The Merlyn family was huge, and of course, Malcolm Merlyn never missed an opportunity to talk business. He had just given his best man speech when he noticed her, grinning and talking to a guest. She stood next to the cupcake display, and how he didn't notice her before he had no idea. She wore a silk chiffon strapless dress that fell a few inches above her knees. It was a gorgeous coral color that brought out the color in her cheeks. Her eyes glittered like he remembered and her blond hair was piled into a curly up-do. She wore a little more make-up than the last time he saw her. Her eyes were shimmery and gold, making the soft blue look vibrant. Her lips were a dark pink, almost purple, and he smiled as he watched her gesture wildly. Finally, the man took one of the cupcakes and walked away, but not after giving her his number. To his amusement, the second he left, she tossed it in a near by trashcan. He grabs two flutes of Champaign and heads towards her. The smile that fills her face when she sees him makes his chest tighten.

"Oliver," she says, cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the best man," he explains. "And you looked like you could use a break from the . . . friendly guests."

She accepts the Champaign and takes a sip.

"So you cater now?" he asks, watching as a few guests grab a cupcake.

"Well, I actually I just got here. The woman who co-owns the bakery with me, Lena Machovoli, came down with a cold. I was do"

That explained why he hadn't noticed her earlier.

"The man I lease the building from, Mr. Davis, I think he works for you, actually, asked me to do some computer work for him around 5."

He notices a small wince as she mentions her boss. He almost doesn't notice it, but her smile falters for a second and her eyes darken fractionally.  
"How do you like Mr. Davis?" he prods, curious. He knows Davis runs a tight ship down in accounting, and he wouldn't be surprised if his employees see him in a less than favorable light.

"Oh, it's great. Super, he is so nice," She says, and even though it's clearly a lie, she says it with such conviction he almost lets it slide. She's clearly been practicing.

"Really? Because I think Davis is kind of a dick," Oliver says. "I've worked with him a few times and it was not very pleasant."  
Felicity lets out a relieved sigh and a shaky smile.

"He just is very demanding and sense he gives me a good deal on rent, I can't really turn him down," she says. He instantly knows she's not the kind of girl who would ever say something bad about someone. He can easily see her ignoring gossip and looking for good qualities in everyone she meets. She's unlike any of the girls he's ever met. She doesn't flirt with him, or ask him about his questionable past as they chat by the cupcake booth, ignoring the wedding guests around them. Laurel and Makenna, both wonderful and stunning woman, were both so upfront and, sometimes, abrasive. She has a gentleness that makes him want to open up, instead of forcing him. She has a very slight southern accent that makes him eager to hear her talk more. Luckily, he doesn't have to prod her to speak. She talks quickly and animatedly, telling him about her job, how much she loves baking, how sometimes she sneaks down when the store is closed and makes weird recipes, like orange and lilac. She mentions that she's from North Carolina, and that she has a computer science degree from MIT, but decided to open a bakery instead. Two hours later, Felicity and Oliver are sitting outside the ballroom and reception hall, Champaign glasses discarded somewhere. The cupcakes are long gone, the candles worn down, the music louder than before. The loud thump of base lets him know the party part of the wedding is currently ongoing. She was so easy to talk to, so understanding. He's surprised at the words tumbling out of his mouth, about his father, about his history with Laurel, how hard it's been to take over QC after his father's death.

"Well, I hope I haven't distracted you from all your best man duties," she says, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Not at all. You're much better company than drunk groomsmen," he says, suddenly noticing that they're the only ones out here. As if fate itself took over, the loud electronic music was replaced by a slow rhythm. Oliver has never been a great dancer, but sitting here with Felicity, soft guitar coming through the wall, he would like nothing more than to take her hand. To place a hand on her back, pull her close to him, and to feel her head on his shoulder, maybe. To feel her warm breath tickle the stubble on his face, her lips so close to his . . .

_I'm giving up__  
__This whole lie, this whole me__  
__Call it out like a family__  
__Instead I bide my time, get a ride__  
__Until the rubber leaves the road_

_You said don't lie so I made the truth__  
__Seemed like a lie to even you__  
__Control your fear. It's clear__  
__That you do not know where you're going to_

__So he does. He stands, not bothering to pull on his suit jacket and bow-tie, abandoned long ago. He holds out his hand and she places her dainty fingers on his, sitting her yellow clutch aside. He briefly notices that her nails are now a light green before their fingers intertwine and she stands. His hand finds her back and they sway back and forth, their chests flushed together.

_So, don't you worry__  
__You'll be my resolution__  
__Characters of no illusion__  
__You'll be my resolution_

__They are so close together that the scent of citrus and freshly baked cupcakes fills his senses. She's short enough that her head barely reaches his chin now that she's taken off her shoes, which lay next to his bow tie. She can hear his heart beat through his chest, almost beating in sync with the music.

_One month down and it's in sight__  
__oh, I'm guaranteed to lose my mind__  
__It's dangerous to speak and sigh__  
__You might know what I'm trying to hide___

_So from the cradle to quarter age__  
__oh, I bought the book but didn't flip the page__  
__oh, readiness is near. We steer__  
__As far away from the coming of days_

She pulls her head back, her hand smoothing over his chest to lay across his heart where her ear just was. Their eyes meet, lips centimeters apart. Beneath her palm, his heart rate increases as he closes the minimal distance between them. Their lips meet and it's gentle, soft. He savors the way her lips taste like vanilla and strawberries, his head filling with fog.

_So, don't you worry__  
__You'll be my resolution__  
__Characters of no illusion__  
__You'll be my resolution__  
__Characters of no illusion__  
__You'll be my resolution_

Felicity feels as though she's stepped into a warm bath, a flush filling her from head to toe as they kiss, slowly swaying to the music. After a moment, he breaks the contact between them, resting his forehead against hers. Both their eyes are bright, faces flushed and minds filled with giddy happiness as the song comes to an end.

_Turn around, put it down and see__  
__That this is really the place to be.__  
__I'm not you, nor you me__  
__But we're both moving steady._

The fourth time he sees Felicity, it's on their first actual date. He drives to her apartment above the bakery. He walks through the store, following the directions she texted him earlier that day. He smiles at Lena, the co-owner, who looks to be in her mid-60s, with grey hair and a winning smile, before walking up the stairs leading to her apartment. Butterflies fill his stomach as he raises his fist to knock. It's sweltering hot outside and the back of his black t-shirt is already damp. When he called her to grab dinner, she suggested they cook something instead of going out, hence the bags of groceries tucked under his arm. There's some rummaging around and a bark from the inside before the door swings open to reveal a slightly frazzled looking Felicity holding back a giant dog.

"Oliver! Please, come in!"

He grins at her, walking in and closing the door behind him with his foot. The dog is grey and black speckled, and looks like a Great Dane mix. Oliver has always liked dogs and has always wanted one. As soon as the door is closed, she releases the dog on Oliver. It runs forward and Oliver braces himself for impact. Instead, to Oliver's surprise, the dog doesn't jump on him. It wags his tail, tongue rolling lazily out of the side of his mouth, staring up at Oliver with wide eyes.

"Sorry, that's Yoshi. He gets a little excited, but he won't jump on you," she says, walking over to him. Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head and she wears a loose black tank top with reddish-pink skinny jeans. When she reaches him, she quickly stands on the tips of her toes and kisses him on the cheek before taking the bag from him. Instantly, the butterflies disappear.

"Aw, no worries. I love dogs," Oliver says as she walks away from him. He squats down on the ground and pets the dog affectionately. Yoshi wags his tail even faster than before, if possible, getting closer to Oliver. After a moment, Oliver stands and brushes his hands on his jeans, looking around the loft. The entire wall across from him is made entirely of large windows, over looking the street in front of the bakery. Across the street is a dog park and he can see a few children playing with a young puppy. The rest of the walls are brick, cracking in some places. Felicity is standing to his left in the corner that must be the kitchen. He can see an oven, microwave and a fridge. Colorful patterned dishes are displayed on racks above the sink, along with mugs and a painting of a yellow flower. To his right, next to the door, is the living room corner. There's an impressive plasma TV mounted on the wall with an off-white couch across from it, littered with pink, yellow and orange patterned pillows and a coffee table in front of it where a laptop currently sits. A large rug decorates the wooden floor by the TV, white and yellow. There's a lazy-boy by the couch too, where Yoshi has just sprang onto, curling up and watching them with interest. Tucked into the far left corner is a bed with a chevron floral bedspread and white pillows. There's a dresser too and a chest at the bottom of her bed. While she unpacks the groceries, he walks over to the wall between her "bedroom" and "living room". It's filled with photos and posters. One section is specifically devoted to comic books. There are pictures of her as a young child and with friends. One features Yoshi as a young puppy, on his back in Felicity's arms, cuddled as close to her as possible. Both of them are asleep, Felicity's hair splayed around her. There are also some posters of her favorite movies and TV shows. One of the posters catches his eye. It's in the middle of everything, so it must be his favorite too. It says "You are the rose of my heart, the love of my life, a flower not fading nor falling apart. If you're cold, let my love make you warm, Rose of my Heart". Each line is a different color, red, blue and green, and all in different lettering. It's a Johnny Cash song he recognizes.

"Lena took that photo," Felicity says, surprising him. She's standing next to him, looking at the sleeping picture of her and Yoshi. "You can't tell, but I'm utterly exhausted there. I got Yoshi on the day I graduated from MIT, the last day of finals. I hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep per night that week. Yoshi was so exhausted from the vet that we both passed out the moment we got home. Lena came up later to meet the puppy and found us like that."

He smiles at her as she stares fondly at the picture. She breaks her eyes away from the picture and turns to him.  
"So, welcome to my apartment. It was an office before I rented it out, so it's not really meant to be lived in," she says, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Oliver looks around the room once again before sighing. How could somewhere you'd only been for minutes feel like home?

"I love it," he says simply. The rewarding grin she gives him makes his heart clench.

They make dinner, a simple spaghetti recipe with fresh basil and a baguette, and eat at the small table that somehow pulls the entire room together. The light outside fades and a gentle breeze flows through the room from the open windows. Yoshi snores from the lazy boy as Felicity finishes her glass of red wine. They do the dishes, listening to soft music through her impressive speaker system, comfortable in silence. They put on a movie, ending up making out most of the time. Finally, when the credits roll and it's completely dark outside, Oliver stands to grab his coat.

"I should probably be heading out," he says, even though every fiber of his being wants to stay.

Felicity stands next to him, her cheeks slightly flushed. She wraps her fingers through his and pulls him gently away from the couch and towards her bed.

"Or," she says, "You could stay."  
Immediately, he drops his coat, making her giggle softly. He wraps his arms around her waist as they reach her bed, lifting her up so her legs wrap around his waist. As they fall back onto the bed, his arms coming up to hold him slightly above her, he realizes he feels completely comfortable around her. They've only hung out three times and he feels more like himself than he ever was with his pervious relationships.

"I could definitely stay," he whispers, his voice low and husky. They kiss passionately, her hands trailing down his chest as one of his hands pulls her hair out of her bun. They break apart so Oliver can help her pull his shirt over his head. Her hair falls around her, framing her face in a golden haze.

"Oliver," she says, slightly breathless. "I'm not looking for, well. . ."

He's suddenly terrified she's going to say a relationship, that she wants this all to be a one-night thing that she's not falling for him like he is.

"I don't want to wake up tomorrow and find you not here," she finishes, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "I like you."  
Relief floods him and he places a light kiss on her lips.

"I like you too. I would never leave you," he says.

"Promise?" she says with a grin.

"Promise," he replies, before their lips meet again, hungry and wanting. Their pants are discarded quickly, leaving him in his boxers and her in panties and her tank top. Her hands run up his chest and then he remembers the scars that litter his body. When her fingers run over the first one, he stiffens, pulling back from her. She looks up at him, confused, and then her fingers find the next scar. Her hands come up to his chest quickly without touching the rest of his abdomen and she pushes him back lightly. He pulls back and she sits up, facing him. He doesn't bother resisting as she switches their positions, so he's laying on his back and she's straddling him. The lamp on her bedside table sends a dull yellow glow over the bed and he watches with guarded eyes as she gazes at his chest, her eyes jumping from scar to scar. He expects her to ask, to demand an explanation, or to gasp. Instead, her eyes meet his and she leans down, placing a kiss on his lips before pulling off her shirt and kissing a trail down his chest. His hands run up her spine as she kisses his collarbone. When her lips come in contact with his first scar, he gasps in surprise. She continues to kiss each and every scar, leading down his abdomen. When she reaches the last scar that his boxers don't cover, he flips them over, taking in her black bra and pink underwear.

"I really like you," she admits.

"I like you more," he says.

The next morning, Felicity wakes up to sunshine streaming through the blinds. She snuggles closer to the warmth besides her, and opens her eyes to find Oliver watching her with a thoughtful expression. She smiles at him, tilting her chin up to get a better look at him. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her flush against him. Her arm lays across his abdomen, her head nestled on his chest, their legs tangled together under the sheets.

"You're thinking too loud," she mutters, closing her eyes before sighing, contentedly. She feels a chuckle rumble in his chest and she can't help the smirk that forms on her face.

"When I was twelve, I woke up in the middle of the night with my house on fire. My dad was shouting and pulling me out of bed before I could even process what was happening. He told me to grab my sister and get outside. He said he would be right behind me," Oliver says, his voice barely above a whisper. Felicity shifts so she can look at him again.

"Oliver, you don't have to-"  
"I want to," he interrupts. She nods and he starts to speak again. "I found my mom and Thea in her room and we ran outside. The back of my t-shirt caught on fire, and that's how I got the burns on my back. My dad never made it out of that house," he pauses, lost in memories. Felicity reaches across his chest and grabs his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. He smiles at her gratefully. "When I was 18, I was kidnapped. They wanted to know about my mom and dad. Apparently, my dad wasn't the great man I always thought he was. That's how I got the other scars. The police found me a couple weeks later, but the damage was already done. I couldn't bare to look my mother in the eye after that. So I left. I went to Russia for a while, skipped through China and England. I didn't see her again until I was 25, a year ago. See, my mother had cheated on my dad with Malcolm Merlyn. Thea wasn't my father's daughter. But I returned when my mom got sick. She couldn't take care of the company any more, so I was pulled into that. I never wanted QC, I never even wanted to step foot in that place again. I don't want to turn out like my father," he finishes, his voice hoarse.

Felicity doesn't ask him to elaborate on exactly what his father did that was so awful. She can tell the information he shared with her has been emotionally draining enough.

"You're a good man, Oliver. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise," she says, propping her head up on her elbow and squeezing their intertwined hands. "You're my hero," she adds quietly.

On the 3,450th time Oliver saw Felicity she wears white. He nervously shifts from one foot to the other as the guests walked towards their seats. It is a beautiful, 75-degree day with a gentle breeze wafting lazily through the surrounding forest. It's a small wedding, immediate family and friends only. White chairs sat in rows in front of the gazebo. On either side of the walkway leading to him were white rose petals while lilacs bouquets hung from every other chair next to the isle. Felicity's younger sister, Faith, sits off to the side, acoustic guitar in hand. She plays simple tunes while the guests find their seats, dressed in a dark blue short bridesmaids dress. Oliver himself wears a simple white button up shirt with a grey vest over the top and grey pants. The wedding is casual, to his mother's disappointment, and there isn't a tux in sight. Birds chirp around them as the final guest took its seat and the entrance flap into the bride's tent opened. Instead of the traditional wedding anthem, Faith plays the song they first danced to: _Resolution_. Felicity steps out of the tent and everything else fades around him. Her hair hangs in loose curls down her back, shimmering in the sunlight. Her dress is strapless and made out of lace. It is fitted around her chest and flows out just above her hips. It isn't a ball gown or skintight, it's just billowy enough to blow behind her as she walked towards him, bare feet crinkling in the warm grass. Their eyes met and she grins at him, from ear to ear, before giving him a wink. When she finally reaches him, all butterflies and doubts have melted from his mind. He has never been so sure about something in his entire life.

Since Oliver was Catholic and she was Jewish, they decided to have a non-religious ceremony. Lena, who raised Felicity after her parents passed away, stands between them as he takes her hand.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Lena began, smiling at the crowd. "We're all here today to celebrate the relationship of Felicity and Oliver and to be witnesses and supporters of the commitment they share with one another. Together we're a group of the most important people in their lives and they've brought us here to publically recognize that we've all played some special part in the love they share today. A good marriage must be built on the foundation of this commitment. In marriage the "little" things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say, "I love you" at least once a day. It is never going to sleep angry. It is standing together and facing the world. It is speaking words of appreciation, and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is a common search for the good and the beautiful. It is not only marrying the right partner — it is being the right partner. I believe in true love, I believe in love at first sight, I believe love conquers all. That doesn't mean there's not going be hard days, difficult things to deal with because there will be. But finding that person who does it for you and knowing that that person loves you back, it makes everything so much easier. Felicity Smoak will become Felicity Queen today. That was the dream and here we are: ten years later. And we all get to witness today a dream come true."

Felicity and Oliver grin at each other the entire time, eyes twinkling with excitement, taking every word Lena says to heart. Before they know it, it is time for the vows and exchanging of rings. Felicity's ring was beautiful, her grandmother's ring that Lena had given Oliver two years ago. It is a white gold band with a large radiant diamond in the middle that had pink hues to it, surrounded by white diamonds. There are pockets of smaller diamonds on the band itself. They decided she didn't want a wedding band, so Tommy hands him the ring as he recalls his written vows. They exchange vows, his heart beating rapidly when it comes her time to say "I do", and before he knows it, Lena is announcing them man and wife.

He remembers all the mornings waking up with her in his arms, Yoshi at their feet. He remembers staying up until dawn with her, making weird concoctions in the bakery kitchen, getting flour all over them. He remembers the first time he dreamt about having kids with her, how when he woke up the following morning he was so disappointed that it was just at dream he moped around the rest of the day until Felicity convinced him it wasn't just a dream, but a glimpse into their future together, a vision. He remembers every fight they had, every time she yelled at him for shutting himself off from the rest of the world. He remembers the time she told him that she opened up the bakery because it had always been her mothers dream. The first time he told her he loved her was when she had been hit by a car walking to work one morning. He had gotten the call an hour later that she was in the ER and everything was a blur of panic until he laid his eyes on her, lying broken in a hospital bed. How her hand came up to his face, wiping away an errant tear as he told her how scared he was, making her promise never to scare him again. He remembers how she had told him she loved him for the first time. They were laying in the park on a lazy Sunday, staring up at the clouds, pointing out different shapes as Yoshi chased ducks around them. She just looked at him and said it, out of the blue. He remembers feeling guilty about not asking her to marry him on their 5th, 6th, or 7th anniversary. He remembers how she reminded him that she didn't care if they got married today, or never. That all she needed was him and their promise to one another, not a white dress and a ring.

Their lips meet, gentle and brief, just hinting at more passion to come later. Before they separated completely, she moves her head back slightly so their foreheads are pressed together.  
"Promise?" he asks, his eyes glinting.

"Promise," she responds, kissing him once more before they step back, hand in hand, as husband and wife.


End file.
